


Nightmare

by DragonWasser



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Whump, Whumptober 2019, trigger:death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 09:11:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20832974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonWasser/pseuds/DragonWasser
Summary: Just because Mysterio is dead doesn't mean he'll leave Peter alone. Luckily, neither will Tony Stark. (WARNING: may contain triggers- death.) Written for whumptober 2019.





	Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: OK, so this is my first whumptober fic and also my first attempt at whump, ever. Combine that with the fact that it's midnight where I am now and I have exams... yeah. Not the best fic. Hope you guys like it though! ~DragonWasser

Peter thought he'd be OK.

Mysterio was gone - no more illusions. Peter's spider sense (or Peter-tingle, as Aunt May loved to call it) would warn him if anyone tried to do that again. He and MJ were dating, and she knew he was Spider-Man, which was a relief - he didn't want to lie to her after what he'd been through. School was going great, and he got to visit Mrs. Stark and Morgan every weekend or so. The only negative was that Happy was seeing May, and he'd made his peace with that, since May looked much happier than he'd seen her in a long while.

In short, life was going great... until his stupid Parker-luck struck again.

.

'MJ!'

MJ's screams continued, somewhere below the freezing stone ground, where Peter couldn't reach her.

Thisisntrealthisisntrealthisisntreal

'I don't think you know what's real, Peter,' Beck's voice echoed.

It's just a nightmare, Spider-Man! Wake up-

'Just a nightmare, huh?' a different, but even more familiar voice rang out.

Peter whipped around, only to see the same gravestone he saw every night, the half-eroded words 'Anthony Edward Stark' written on it... but this time Mr. Stark - an alive, healthy Mr. Stark - was standing in front of it.

'Mr. Stark?'

'So this is just a nightmare to you?' Mr. Stark took a step forward, smirking maliciously, and Peter instinctively took a step back, panting. 'You never know. Deep down, I'm sure you know it's right.'

Then, right before his eyes, Peter saw Mr. Stark stiffen, skin turning green, then purple, then black-

WAKE UP!

Mr. Stark was still smiling. 'Still don't believe me?' he asked, tongue lolling out, eyes pushing themselves out slowly-

Peter sat up in his bed, throat dry like he'd been screaming, still panting heavily. And then a line he was pretty sure he wasn't in the nightmare came to him:

Don't fool yourself, kid. You know why I died.

You.

.

The nightmares had started a week ago, and were getting progressively worse.

First he dreamt about what had happened... which he thought was normal, even if it sucked. But later on they became different - worse.

Yesterday was the first time he saw Mr. Stark in his nightmares, which soon became a normal occurence.

.

'Do you know,' Mr. Stark asked casually one night, when Peter was sitting in front of the gravestone again, 'what happens when people die?'

Peter looked pointedly away, eyes puffy from crying.

'You're Beck,' Peter answered shortly.

'Never thought you'd confuse me with someone else, Underoos. Don't you even remember me?' Mr. Stark said, a trace of hurt in his voice that forced Peter to look back. Which was a big mistake.

Mr. Stark/Beck was grinning again, looking like a shark about to devour its prey, and Peter couldn't look away.

'First,' Mr. Stark/Beck said, deliberately, 'rigor mortis.'

Itsjustanightmareitsnotreal

Mr. Stark/Beck frowned, like he'd read Peter's mind. 'Still think that, don't we?' When Peter didn't answer, he went on. 'But obviously you saw that already, so let's skip it.'

Already, his body was stiffening and turning black, tongue lolling and eyes-

PETER, WAKE UP!

...He couldn't. He tried punching himself in the face, but found himself frozen, unable to move, forced to watch Beck deliver the grotesque science lesson in Mr. Stark's body.

'Next is my favourite,' Mr. Stark - no, Beck continued in that horrible voice, so casual he could be asking the weather. 'The body blisters - so much that the slightest touch causes it to fall off.'

Mr. Stark's skin started blistering, but for some reason the grin remained untouched. Then he leaned in close, and- and placed a hand on Peter's shoulder-

'STOP!'

'PETER!'

Peter gasped awake again, shaking like a leaf, only briefly registering the tears running down his face. Aunt May was staring at him, a look of concern on her face.

'Peter - '

She was whispering something, trying to soothe him, but Peter didn't hear it over the screaming in his mind - the things he just saw -

'Peter, honey?'

'Thanks, Aunt May,' he said assuringly, and she seemed relieved that he was fine - or at least, seemed better.

'Do you need anything?' she asked, insistent on helping him. 'I could put on a movie-'

'No, I'm fine,' Peter lied, settling down in his bed. He must've put up a good act, and Aunt May just gave him a few pecks on the forehead before reminding him a dozen times that if he had another nightmare he should wake her up, before she went back to her room.

A few moments after she left, Peter pulled out his Spider-Man suit, and leapt out the window.

It was much better than the alternative, after all.

.

'When was the last time you slept?' MJ asked, suspicious, when Peter showed up at the lunch table three days later.

'I'm getting enough.'

'That's not an answer, Peter,' MJ replied, threateningly, but there was a tone of worry in her voice.

'Dude, you look like a panda,' Ned said, concerned. 'And not in a good way.'

Peter made a mental note to figure out how to apply concealer. He was pretty sure May had some at home that she didn't use.

MJ was still eyeing him suspiciously, while Ned looked anxious. Peter felt a twinge of guilt - he hated keeping this from them, after all that just happened, but he didn't want them to lose sleep over his nightmares. Though he would have to step up his game - he had to be shaken awake in his last class, and even the principal was smelling a rat.

The alternative, of course, was falling asleep. He was flat-out terrified of that now. Even the short snooze he'd gotten in class had immediately brought him back to where he'd woken up, with the Mr. Stark in blistering skin. He'd been forced to watch as the body turned into a skeleton, which he really didn't want to recall.

And it'd get worse- it always got worse- and so sleeping was not an option.

'Promise us that you'll try to get eight hours tonight, Peter?' Ned asked.

Peter smiled, or at least tried to, considering how it grated on him. 'Yeah.'

.

Stupid. So, so stupid.

He'd just closed his eyes for a second, and he was standing in the graveyard again.

'Please,' he cried, hoarsely. 'I just want to rest.'

'As I'm resting?' A figure walked out of the shadows, and Peter felt almost relieved for a second. It was Beck, not Mr. Stark, this time. But that relief was short-lived - Beck looked mad, a crazed gleam in his eyes, and though Peter saw red-hot shackles around his arms, it didn't seem to hinder Beck's progress toward him in the least; within a second Peter found himself sprawled on the ground, Beck looming over him.

'Let you rest, Parker?' Beck hissed. 'See where you put me.' He gestured to the surroundings, which had changed: instead of the usual landscape, Peter saw a fiery pit, and he guessed that he was in the afterlife- in actual hell-

'That's right,' Beck yelled, making Peter jump. But then Beck's mouth twisted in a malicious, awful smile: 'And now, I'm going to take you down with me.'

'Beck- please don't do this-' Peter tried standing up, only to feel Beck pinning him down, fire tearing through his skin-

'It's really cute, how you beg,' Beck said, sneering, 'but it's not gonna help you now.' He stood up, letting Peter catch his breath for a second, before dragging him nearer to the pit- nearer and nearer-

'Wake up,' Peter said to himself, trying to think clearly through the tears and all. 'Wake up, it's only a nightmare- wake up-'

He heard Beck laughing and saying something, but he was still trying to focus- but he was getting hotter and hotter-

'WAKE UP!' Peter screamed. 'WAKE-'

He coughed, ash getting into his lungs, skin blistering. He felt consciousness slipping away, slowly, definitely...

The last thing he heard was gunshots, and felt himself drop to the floor...

.

'Kid, can you hear me?' a voice said softly, hoarsely like the speaker had been crying. 'Underoos?'

Mmmmm... Peter thought. Nice, soft sleep. No more nightmares. Nice and soft and...

'маленький паук,' another voice went, a hint of humour and worry in it, 'your отец is waiting.'

'Want sleep,' Peter said sleepily, without opening his eyes. Instead of peaceful silence, however, he heard a relieved, slightly frantic burst of laughter. He tried to bat a hand in the general direction of it, which, a little annoyingly, didn't seem to register; the laughter went on, with no sign of stopping. Irritated, he opened his eyes.

Mr. Stark was standing right in front of him.

Quick as a flash, Peter sat up, wincing a little as he did so, and retreated up the bed, trying to ward it off. He tried to ignore the sudden hurt that passed over Mr. Stark's face, which was quickly replaced by anger.

'Nat, any chance we could break into there again and kill-'

'Maybe,' another voice interrupted, and Peter raised his head to look at the speaker.

Natasha Romanoff was standing at the other end of the bed, looking just as she had in life except that she was now sporting her red hair in a bun. She even had her stealth suit on, twin pistols at her belt. 'For now, he's taken care of.'

'I want him to be gone once and for all.' Mr. Stark's voice was still quavering with anger, and Peter felt that maybe this wasn't an illusion, but what if it was, to lure him into another false sense of security?

'He'll be suffering for eternity.'

'...I guess that's fair.' Mr. Stark glanced back at Peter, who was still sitting at the other end of the bed. Peter decided to go for it.

Voice shaking, Peter stuttered, 'Tell me something only you would know.'

'Something only I would know? Why-' Mr. Stark's eyes widened in realisation, and Peter could almost see him physically push down his anger.

'I'll go first,' Natasha said smoothly. 'I've beaten you at every single card game we've played, except the one time I went to grab a snack and you peeked at my Monopoly Deal cards.'

Peter would've felt intensely annoyed at her for bringing them up if he weren't so relieved.

Mr. Stark went next. 'You have a room in our house. Mine and Pep's.' He smiled a little, then continued, 'it has rubber web hammocks hanging from the ceiling, because you always seemed to be in one of your web hammocks when I checked on you. But those things dissolve over time, so Pep and I decided it'd be safer to have a pernament installation instead of being woken up to the spider-baby breaking their back from the fall.'

Now Peter could practically pass out from relief. It must have shown on his face, because both Mr. Stark and Natasha were smiling.

'I'm sorry,' Mr. Stark said, voice breaking. 'I should've known-'

'Mr. Stark, you couldn't have-'

'Beck was mad,' Mr. Stark continued, ignoring Peter's protests. 'No, listen, Pete. I don't know how on earth he did that, but we're trying to figure it out. I can promise you, it won't happen again.' His eyes flashed. 'Not on my watch.'

'Our watch,' Natasha cut in.

Peter felt a lot safer. Snuggling into the bed, he was about to close his eyes again (he was tired, after all), when he suddenly jolted back up, mentally kicking himself for not noticing it sooner.

'If that was hell...' Peter actually took a proper look around. He was in somewhere that looked like the medbay in the Avengers Compound, but a lot more homey. 'Is this heaven, then?'

'I suppose so, kid.'

'How'd you guys break into hell then?' Peter asked. 'Wait- how did you figure I was there?'

'We heard you screaming,' Mr. Stark winced, 'and we were almost too late, though I doubt he could've thrown you in the pit - you definitely belong up here.' He jaw clenched. 'Doesn't mean I don't still hate him, of course.'

'As for how we got in there,' Natasha went on, 'I still have my tricks.'

Peter laughed again. It all felt so familiar, in a good way.

'Hate to say it, kid, but if you want to get any undisturbed sleep tonight,' Mr. Stark tapped a watch, 'You'd better sleep now.'

Cue his joy suddenly fading.

'I was feeling much better,' Peter argued. Something horrible just occured to him. 'If I wake up, will I ever see you guys again?'

'In your dreams,' Mr. Stark answered, deadpan.

'Oh,' Peter said, deflated, before it hit him. 'Mr. Stark!'

Nat and Mr. Stark were laughing from the joke, Peter grinning. Mr. Stark wiped away a mock tear. 'Well, spider-babies need their sleep, so I can't promise every night, but sometimes. On non-school nights.'

'Mr. Stark...'

'Nope,' Mr. Stark smirked, brushing Peter's curls away from his forehead and gently laying his head on the pillow. 'Final offer. Almost time for school, spider-baby. Go back to sleep.'

'Fine.' Peter closed his eyes, and started drifting off right away. 'How about tomorrow night, then?'

'Only if you lose those panda eyes.'

Sleep was beckoning, and it was hard to form a coherent thought, but it wasn't scary, or threatening, like with Beck. 'Promise?'

'I promise.'

And Peter fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hope you guys liked it! If you did, I have a tumblr, mywhumptoberblog. It's kind of a multifandom blog that I'm just going to post all my stuff for whumptober in, for convenience. Thanks for reading! ~ DragonWasser


End file.
